SPN fic: Coming Undone
May. 31st, 2007 03:35 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Pairing: Ava/Lily (the girl from AHBL1 that died)
Rating: Adult
Spoilers through AHBL1
There's just not a lot of opportunity for femslash in SPN, which makes me sad cause I miss reading the girl loving. *g* So I thought I'd write an alternate version of AHBL1 (a version that I should warn you turned out fairly dark)
“It’s okay. You can touch me. You won’t hurt me,” Ava says. “That’s my power. You can’t hurt me.”
Then she grabs your hand, her grip painful on your wrist as you try to pull away. She presses your palm to her breast, the underwire of her bra cutting into the heel of your hand, and you feel her heart beating steadily. Ava smiles.
1
You woke up on the splintered floor of an abandoned barn, sun slicing through the holes in its roof and bisecting your legs below the knees. For one moment, one precious moment, you were so thrown that you did not think of Katherine. You did not see her sprawled on your kitchen floor, her eyes wide open, urine pooling under her hips. Briefly, you forgot. Then you heard voices and you remembered.
2
You liked Andy the best at first. He reminded you of Katherine in some weird way—that goofy grin, maybe, or the way he apparently thought porn is truly the answer to all life’s problems. Everyone seemed to know everyone else already, except for Jake, who bonded almost immediately with Sam. You felt left out, peripheral. Again. Always.
But when you told them what you could do, what you had done, Sam said, “My girlfriend’s dead, too.”
Ava nodded. “And my fiancé.”
You looked at the ground and so did they and you didn’t feel so alone anymore, even if that had to be the most fucked up kind of solidarity you’d ever heard of. You still wanted to run, but you didn’t. You’re not sure why, really, only that Ava asked you not to go. So you salted the windows with Andy, laying down each line two fingers thick on the sills. Andy cracked jokes and he never stood close enough to make you nervous. You laughed at him once, and the sound felt heavy in your throat, awkward.
3
Andy was the first to die, and it’s absurd, but you felt like you’d lost Katherine all over again. Jake and Sam took his body away, but Andy’s blood stained the floor, soaked down into the grain of the wood almost instantly. Ava spread a grayed and fraying tablecloth over the place where Andy died, over the place you could not bear to look.
You don’t know how Sam and Jake died or if they even did. Maybe they found a way to leave. You doubt this. But it’s nice to think, the two of them bunked down in the woods together, sleeping back to back in damp leaves.
4
You always thought it was silly Before, the way people fall into bed in the movies. One minute they’re running for their lives, rappelling down the sides of mountains and blowing shit up. The next, they’re screwing on the hood of a Mustang while the skyline burns in the distance. Now you get it. How the fear and hunger and desperation coiling in your belly is sickeningly close to desire. How the need to touch, now that you can, overrides all the rest.
You have terrible dreams of a man with yellow eyes who wants you to kill Ava. You barely sleep anymore.
“I don’t dream at all,” Ava says, and you know she’s lying, but then she kisses you. These moments, with her hands on your body, her chapped lips on your own, these are the moments that matter to you now.
Ava holds you down, bites your collarbone. She rolls your nipples between her fingers and she licks up your thighs in long firm strokes. She shudders on your hand when you fuck her, one finger in her ass and another up her cunt, your thumb working her clit slow and sweet. She tastes like dirt and sweat; she tastes like you. When you make her come you close your eyes. It’s not her face you want. You can no longer recall Katherine’s features exactly. She is blurred, wrapped in gauze, her voice traveling to you through water. Closing your eyes helps.
Sometimes Ava talks in her sleep. “Not yet. Not yet,” she says. “Soon, I promise. Tomorrow, maybe.”
You think that when she gives in, when you are dying, the kiss she gives you then will be the one you finally feel, the one that slips through skin to the blood and underneath.
Rating: Adult
Spoilers through AHBL1
There's just not a lot of opportunity for femslash in SPN, which makes me sad cause I miss reading the girl loving. *g* So I thought I'd write an alternate version of AHBL1 (a version that I should warn you turned out fairly dark)
“It’s okay. You can touch me. You won’t hurt me,” Ava says. “That’s my power. You can’t hurt me.”
Then she grabs your hand, her grip painful on your wrist as you try to pull away. She presses your palm to her breast, the underwire of her bra cutting into the heel of your hand, and you feel her heart beating steadily. Ava smiles.
1
You woke up on the splintered floor of an abandoned barn, sun slicing through the holes in its roof and bisecting your legs below the knees. For one moment, one precious moment, you were so thrown that you did not think of Katherine. You did not see her sprawled on your kitchen floor, her eyes wide open, urine pooling under her hips. Briefly, you forgot. Then you heard voices and you remembered.
2
You liked Andy the best at first. He reminded you of Katherine in some weird way—that goofy grin, maybe, or the way he apparently thought porn is truly the answer to all life’s problems. Everyone seemed to know everyone else already, except for Jake, who bonded almost immediately with Sam. You felt left out, peripheral. Again. Always.
But when you told them what you could do, what you had done, Sam said, “My girlfriend’s dead, too.”
Ava nodded. “And my fiancé.”
You looked at the ground and so did they and you didn’t feel so alone anymore, even if that had to be the most fucked up kind of solidarity you’d ever heard of. You still wanted to run, but you didn’t. You’re not sure why, really, only that Ava asked you not to go. So you salted the windows with Andy, laying down each line two fingers thick on the sills. Andy cracked jokes and he never stood close enough to make you nervous. You laughed at him once, and the sound felt heavy in your throat, awkward.
3
Andy was the first to die, and it’s absurd, but you felt like you’d lost Katherine all over again. Jake and Sam took his body away, but Andy’s blood stained the floor, soaked down into the grain of the wood almost instantly. Ava spread a grayed and fraying tablecloth over the place where Andy died, over the place you could not bear to look.
You don’t know how Sam and Jake died or if they even did. Maybe they found a way to leave. You doubt this. But it’s nice to think, the two of them bunked down in the woods together, sleeping back to back in damp leaves.
4
You always thought it was silly Before, the way people fall into bed in the movies. One minute they’re running for their lives, rappelling down the sides of mountains and blowing shit up. The next, they’re screwing on the hood of a Mustang while the skyline burns in the distance. Now you get it. How the fear and hunger and desperation coiling in your belly is sickeningly close to desire. How the need to touch, now that you can, overrides all the rest.
You have terrible dreams of a man with yellow eyes who wants you to kill Ava. You barely sleep anymore.
“I don’t dream at all,” Ava says, and you know she’s lying, but then she kisses you. These moments, with her hands on your body, her chapped lips on your own, these are the moments that matter to you now.
Ava holds you down, bites your collarbone. She rolls your nipples between her fingers and she licks up your thighs in long firm strokes. She shudders on your hand when you fuck her, one finger in her ass and another up her cunt, your thumb working her clit slow and sweet. She tastes like dirt and sweat; she tastes like you. When you make her come you close your eyes. It’s not her face you want. You can no longer recall Katherine’s features exactly. She is blurred, wrapped in gauze, her voice traveling to you through water. Closing your eyes helps.
Sometimes Ava talks in her sleep. “Not yet. Not yet,” she says. “Soon, I promise. Tomorrow, maybe.”
You think that when she gives in, when you are dying, the kiss she gives you then will be the one you finally feel, the one that slips through skin to the blood and underneath.